𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊
In a world where love can be both. Beautiful or destructive force, the Raghuvanshi brothers hide behind the cold facade guarding their heart from the pain of love.
"Just because you are my wife and we share a bed d...
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• Y U V I K A •
Malaika's dairy 2006
I saw that guilt in Abhimaan's eyes. The guilt of leaving his son in ruins.
And the thing about guilt is... It doesn't vanish. It waits.
It sits inside you like rot, feeding on your silences, growing stronger with every breath you take.
It does not kill quickly. It kills slowly. Softly.
It curls around your heart until you forget what it felt like to breathe without its weight.
But Abhimaan... he never confessed. Never admitted. He wore his guilt like a secret crown, heavy but hidden, daring the world to notice.
He would laugh, drink, spill blood, build his kingdom higher and higher and yet I saw it. In the way his eyes flickered on his son.
And perhaps... that was his punishment. Not death. Not enemies.
But guilt.
That he couldn't look in the eyes of his own son
A guilt that followed him into every shadow, every silence, every dream. And in the end... it devoured him more completely than any bullet ever could."
Malaika Raghuvanshi - A woman who hated her sons
4th January 2008
Every day I asked myself why I was living. Each day I realized the same truth i was not brave. Not brave enough to fight. Not brave enough to leave. Not brave enough even to die.
But that night... I gathered all the scraps of braveness I had left. Just enough to dream aloud.
We were sitting at the long dining table, servants shifting dishes, silence pressing down like stone. I cleared my throat and said softly,
'I was thinking... there's a singing competition in the city. I want to -'
Before I could even finish, her laugh rang out. My mother-in-law. Sharp, cruel, echoing against the high walls.
'A competition?' she sneered, dabbing her lips with her napkin.
'What will the world say? A Raghuvanshi daughter-in-law singing in front of strangers, like a naachnewaali?'
The others chuckled under their breath. I burned. My fists clenched under the table, nails digging into my skin. I could not swallow the humiliation, so I pushed back my chair and left the table, my steps heavy, my throat burning with unshed tears.
In my room, I slammed the door, my heart pounding with both anger and shame. For one moment, I thought maybe maybe Abhimaan would understand.
